Crossing The Red Line
by Anotherjaneway
Summary: Mike Stoker feels the heat when crewmates and the engine get into more than just a little hot water. The city of Carson suffers catastrophe.


This is a text version of the original still airing imaged, music soundtracked story.

Emergency Theater Live, Episode Twelve

12. Crossing The Red Line Season Two - Episode 12 Short summary-  
Mike Stoker feels the heat when crewmates and the engine get into more than just a little hot water. The city of Carson suffers catastrophe.

****WARNING**** The long summary to come is very story spoiling and will take away plot surprises if you read it now before reading the longer story below it.

Decide now if you want to read this episode's detailed summary before doing so.

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Long Summary-  
The gang responds to an unknown type rescue at Carson City Hall.  
There they find a man with drug like symptoms. Johnny stumbles and breaks his leg on a stairwell while patient moving. Roy finishes and leaves with their victim in a Mayfair. Strangely, at the squad, Gage inexplicably collapses and quits breathing. The gang discovers fumes are to blame and launch an immediate evacuation of the city building. Without a paramedic at hand, Stoker's forced to use new training as an intermediate EMT to intubate Johnny. An actively producing meth lab is discovered in the basement. The station's barely clear using the squad and engine as evacuation vehicles when city hall disintegrates into a fireball bringing down the rest of the block around them. The gang finds refuge from the fire in a city morgue. Roy's ambulance is discovered missing and they launch a search in the disaster zone to recover their first victim and crew. Brackett and Dixie respond to the morgue to assist with triaging victims. Johnny awakens and shows his gratitude to Stoker by giving him the finer points on intubating people. Chet decides to become a paramedic.

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The Story Unfolds...

Season Two, Episode Twelve..

Crossing The Red Line Debut Launch: 1 July 2004.

From : Joan Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] A Test Of Wills Sent : Saturday, July 3, 2004 1:05 AM

The day was a typical day at Station 51. It was 2pm and they had had three runs, 2 rescues and 1 fire, none of which were bad, without any Code I s.

Even Johnny came away unscathed, so far..

Chet, as usual, had drawn latrine duty, for having sprung a water bomb on the Cap that was intended for Johnny. As he mopped the latrine, he grumbled to himself,  
Man, how was I supposed to know the Cap was gonna open the cabinet before Gage? MAN!

Johnny and Roy were checking through their equipment to make sure all their supplies were in order, while Stoker was polishing Big Red .

Cap was in his office trying to catch up on some of his never-ending paperwork, while Marco was in the kitchen making his famous chili for dinner.

The guys were all able to enjoy their dinner for once.

Suddenly the klaxons sounded and it turned out to be a call for the whole station.

Station 51. Unknown rescue at the Carson City Hall. 534 East Carson Street. Cross Street Avalon. Time out 1803."

While everyone ran to their assigned duties, Captain Stanley acknowledged, 10-4 Station 51 responding. Carson City Hall 534 East Carson Street. Cross Street Avalon. KMG 365. And he then ran to the engine.

The men arrived to find the mayor and his secretary waiting for them,while police and security guards were trying to keep people calm and away from the scene.

Captain Stanley went up to the mayor and asked, Mr. Mayor, I m Captain Stanley of the fire department. What seems to be the trouble, sir?

Well, Captain Stanley, the thing is I am not really sure. All I know is I was in my office dictating a memo to Linda, my secretary, here when this young man came running into my office yelling. I thought maybe he was a disgruntled citizen with a complaint of some kind, you know.

Captain Stanley nodded and then introduced Roy and John as the paramedics, and said, Go on with your story Mayor Johnson.

Ok, well, as I said before, I thought that but it turned out he was yelling for help. Seems he was sick or something, cause within a minute or two, he passed right out on my floor and started foaming at the mouth. After a few seconds, he appeared to wake up and yelled at me, Mayor Johnson, you need to tell everyone there is a wild rabid dog running out right outside this building. I was cleaning the back up and out of nowhere he attacked me! After he said this, he again passed out, and is now lying in my office and hasn t moved since he said that. I called you guys right away and I hope I m not too late.  
I have the animal patrol searching for the dog now. Please go help him, but be careful of that dog. I have no idea where he could be.

Roy and John assured the Mayor they would attend to the stricken man immediately and Captain Stanley had his guys assist with the search, telling them all to be very careful.

While John and Roy were upstairs, the animal control people had found and corralled the dog and put him down, as he was too far-gone to be helped.

Their patient, although stable, had never regained consciousness and Rampart had ordered the dog s body brought in as well; to be sure it was rabies and nothing else.

With Roy in front and John in back, they began to transport the victim. While doing this, John s foot became entwined with some loose carpeting in the stairwell and he tripped, losing the stretcher. As it was only three steps to go, Roy was able to safely put the patient down.

In the meantime, Johnny stumbled down and landed hard on his left leg, and hearing a SNAP he fell over, saying, Oh, Man! I think I busted my leg, Roy!

Ok, Junior, just let me maneuver around you and the stretcher and call for some help ok? Will you be ok for a minute? Yeah, yeah. Man, what a dumb thing to do! You know, maybe I should sue city hall. And he laughed.

Glad you are in good spirits there, pal. I ll be right back.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: None offered.

*  
From : Cassidy Meyers Sent : Thursday, July 15, 2004 9:11 PM Subject : The Unknown Factor

Johnny watched Roy depart, wheeling the stretcher out into the large lobby of city hall to where he could see the gang milling about outside with the Mayor through the paned glass windows. The ambulance attendants who had been outside cleared a path through the crowd of onlookers and took over the fair haired paramedic's stretcher and the big Mayfair angled on the curb was quickly loaded up.

Immediately, Johnny saw Cap nod a few seconds after Roy shouted something to him. At an order, Marco and Chet ran off to grab the splint box out of the squad. He almost blushed in embarrassment when he saw Cap plaster a face against the doors to see how he was doing. Seconds later, he saw Mayor Johnson lead the way to show the firemen the stairway Roy and Gage had used to reach the office and the mysteriously stricken man.

Cap was right on their heels. "Gage? You ok?" he boomed no nonsense.

"I'm fine. Just my leg. Might be a fib fracture. It didn't sound loud enough to be anything else."

"This from the voice of experience.." Kelly nodded.

"Oh,.. cut it out. The carpeting here, came up on the stair. See?" Johnny waved a hand at everybody to distract them from looking at how red his face was becoming under their penetrating eyes.  
The mayor did see. He leaned over and told Linda the secretary to go get an employee with a camera to take pictures of the area. "Don't you worry about a thing, Mr. Gage. I've been at the maintenance department for weeks about how loose that was.  
I'll have your medical bills covered. I set aside some of my own party's funds to handle all insurance claims filed for accidents occurring inside the building a few weeks ago once I found out how badly I was beating my head against the wall trying to get things done around here fixing city hall's architectural problems, including that stair."  
Just let my secretary know about your bills when they arrive." and he handed over a business card. "And that includes any lost wages on the job." he said empathetically. "I'll have this carpet nailed down in half an hour or my name isn't William A. Johnson, Jr." He waved over one of the security guards to stand over the spot until environmental services could place a caution sign over the area. "It's just a shame that such a dedicated city servant like you, had to get hurt first to expedite things."

Johnny took the card, meekily, in awe that he had such a response so fast from such a high up city official.

Kelly nudged his shoulder with an elbow while he and Marco splinted up his left lower leg.  
"Start moaning. Maybe you'll get more." he whispered, sotto voce. "Roy told us about what you said after it happened while he was loading up the guy."

Gage scowled. "Chet, I was only kidding about that.  
Ow, not so tight! Guys, get my shoe off so I can see how my circulation's doing under that splint."

Cap came back after radioing on ahead for a replacement paramedic to take Johnny's place at the station when they all cleared from the call. "I had to let Roy go on ahead to Rampart with the victim. He started right back into another convulsion.  
Eight's is shadowing him in their squad in case he gets into hot water. They were a minute away just off a cancelled call." He watched with interest while Kelly and Lopez gingerly peeled off sock and shoe from Gage's foot. "Is it an open fracture?" he asked,  
leaning over to look for blood on the leg.

"No, closed and simple." Johnny grimaced, wiggling his toes in a neuro and circulation check around the air splint Lopez and Kelly had applied. "Ok, get me on my feet."  
he told them. They helped him up, slinging Johnny's shaking arms over both their shoulders. "Cap, I can go in the squad. I'm still fine pain wise."

Cap studied him closely. Gage felt a trickle of cold sweat pour down his face, betraying him. "I'm not objected to you calling in another squad to get to some pain meds."

"Cap, this is embarrassing enough as it is without the entire fire department finding out yet again about another Gage mishap. It's a stigma I've been trying to erase for years now."

"This wasn't your fault." Cap reasoned.

"I know that. Neither was just about everything else that's happened to me. But the other stations are still keeping bets on my tally. Somehow, they've already found out about the snake, the monkey virus, my fall off the ladder because of that flashover, my hit and run accident...."

Mayor Johnson piped up. "Don't forget to tell my attorney when he calls about your pain and suffering, too. I'll not have that unaccounted for in your compensation figures." he said before he hurried away to harrass the just now gathering maintenance crew.

Gage winced when he realized how that must have sounded to the frustrated city mayor. He immediately felt guilty. But the queasy feeling growing in his stomach made being tactful nearly impossible.

Johnny tried not to frown as Marco and Chet aided him out the very crowded antehall and back outside to the vicinity of the engine and the squad. Cap followed behind with Johnny's helmet and his sock and shoe. With every hop, Gage's bound leg felt like it was on fire. ::The splint's on right. What's the problem?:: he thought, thinking things through.

He made them set him down on the squad's seat with the door open long enough for him to do a self blood pressure check when Cap wasn't looking. It was oddly low, and when he weaved from where he sat, he wasn't surprised when Mike Stoker suddenly ran up with the engine's spare 02 and clattered it open. Gage never felt himself being lowered to the ground.

His companions' urgent voices swirled away into a loud hissing that was announcing the arrival of a complete and utterly terrifying blackout. His heart started pounding frantically, rising into his eardrums. Then silence slammed down over his awareness and he knew no more.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What the--" Cap startled from his place leaning on the Ward's doorframe. He had just finished informing L.A. of their status.  
He snatched up his HT just as he saw the guys cradle Gage to the sidewalk under the squad's passenger door.  
"Kelly, what happened?" he said as he watched Stoker set a demand valve over Johnny's nose and mouth and begin to punch the button on its regulator, delivering fully assisted breaths.

Chet looked up from Gage as he and Marco got Johnny's shirt open. "Don't know. He took his own pressure, gasped,  
and then keeled over. Now his heart's racing and Stoker says he's barely breathing."

"What was it?" Cap asked of the blood pressure reading his afflicted paramedic had found.

"Eighty palpated." said Lopez.

Hank thumbed his talk bar on the walkie talkie. "L.A. Engine 51. We have a Code I at our location. Respond an additional squad and ambulance to 534 East Carson Street and Avalon."

##10-4, Engine 51. Time out, 18: 51.##

Then Cap looked down and saw a spreading rash quickly appear over Gage's skin and across his chest and neck. "Hold it, hold it."  
he ordered when he saw Kelly and Marco starting to free their hands up for possible CPR. "Guys, keep your gloves on. That looks like a toxic chemical reaction."

In horror, they both looked down.

A gust of wind rose, fluttering Gage's opened uniform shirt and cut apart T shirt. Chet suddenly groaned and looked away, grabbing his face. "Oww! My eyes!"

Cap shouted to the security guards to pull the crowds back from around the firemen, firetrucks and Johnny. "Get them back! Way back! There's an unknown chemical effecting us! Start clearing out all the areas that victim we treated may have been in contact with. And that includes the stairway! Move out all civilians using other routes! Do that before you do anything else! Mayor Johnson stays on scene.  
It'll be your ever lovin' rears if he doesn't. He's possibly been exposed to whatver this stuff is the same as we have!"

The many city hall guards hastened to follow Cap's orders.

Hank grabbed an air bottle off its exterior rack behind E51's cab and slid it on. "Marco, get into your air gear, first. I'll get Mike's.  
THEN deal with helping Chet wash out his eyes. Whatever this chemical is, it's potent.."

"I thought something was fishy about that guy.." Chet coughed, eagerly snatching the reel line Cap dropped by him to start washing his face and eyes clean. "Rabies infection doesn't ever set in that fast.."

Air masked donned, Cap got on the radio once again. "Engine 51, L.A. Call in a full Hazmat Response Team immediately and three additional fire stations. Two firemen are down with symptoms of sudden toxicity. Evacuations of the first floor city hall and second floor office suites have been initiated by city security personnel. An immediate Battalion Chief is requested at my scene. We may have an unknown number of casualties inside the building." He dropped to his knees, pulling up his turnout's collar and he bent over Gage to take over his ventilation care while his engineer hastily got into his SCBA gear.

##10-4, 51. Time out, 18:54. Response ETA of the rescue squad is estimated at six minutes to your location. Hazmat and Battalion reports an arrival in ten.##

"10-4, L.A. Engine 51 out." Stoker answered for Cap on the abandoned HT near Cap's knees. "How are you feeling?" Mike asked Hank ironically as he shoved on his bottle's air mask.

"I'm fine. Calm as peaches, outwardly.." Hank joked.  
"You?" he said giving Gage another breath with the ventilator when his chest didn't rise high enough on its own for his liking.

"Nothing on my end." Stoker said. "I got him.." and he took over for his captain, gripping Johnny's pale, dripping face firmly under his gloves to keep a good open airway.

"Just keep all skin exposed areas on yourself, covered up." Hank said, rising, his adrenaline heightened breaths whistling noisily behind his SCBA's face plate. "Marco will stay in case he crashes further." he added when he saw Lopez's thumbs up from the solid wash he was giving Chet's head and hair.

Kelly's shirt and coat were abandoned on the sidewalk and he was down to his white T shirt, kneeling over the curb to let the hose outwash flow into the sewer drain.

Cap went on, keeping verbal contact with Mike through both their air masks. "If Kelly checks out ok, I'll put him on communications until the other stations get here. Need a relay to Rampart?"

"Yeah, Johnny's throat's getting tight. He may need to be intubated before the squad gets here." Stoker said.

"Aren't you glad you've been cross training in the experimental intermediate paramedic program of Brackett's? That's been just as innovative this past month as Kelly's cross training as a backup engineer for us behind DeSoto. I guess now's your time to shine." he said without a smile. "I'll grab the spare resp kit from the engine."

Cap rose in a hurry and tapped Marco on the shoulder,  
jerking a gloved thumb over his shoulder at Gage and Stoker.

Lopez nodded to Kelly, who was shaking his head like a dog to shed off his contaminated water. "I've got to go. Gage's in the weeds. Stoker's getting a tube out."  
And he dropped the hose into off before he started running.

Kelly slid into his air mask and bottle that Cap had clunked by his feet and blinked water out of his eyes. "You, too, Cap. Go on.  
I'm ok now.. That strange burning's gone."

"You sure?" Cap asked, keeping a safe short distance between himself and Kelly.

"Yeah.." Chet voice hissed as he tested his air bottle's regulator.

"Ok. Get on the horn and raise Rampart. Stoker's gonna need a doctor for.."

"I know.. Marco's just told me." and Chet rushed back to the other firemen.

A minute later, Stoker had an HT tucked under one helmeted ear on open talk mode to Kel Brackett when Cap said. "Ch.. r*st All Mighty. I forgot about Roy! He's still with the guy who started all of this." Cap straightened up on his knees and started to call the Mayfair, now half way to Rampart, speeding Code Three. He whipped up his walkie talkie. "L.A. Engine 51. Clear me on Tactical to Squad 51's HT. Emergency!"

##Engine 51. You are on Situation First - Go.## came Lanier's crisp reply.

Hank shot to his feet. "Engine 51 to HT 51. Do you read me? Over...."

He barely saw Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez being talked through Johnny's endotracheal airway insertion. He didn't envy the difficulty they were facing being stuck inside their work gloves and wearing their steamed up air masks.

"Engine 51 to Squad 51. This is Captain Stanley on Priority Override. Do you read?"

-------------------------------------------------------

Photo : City Hall types on a carpeted stairwell.

Photo: Mayor William A. Johnson, Jr.

Photo: Carson City's real City Hall.

Photo: Cap calling urgently on the radio,  
crouched low near the squad.

Photo: A speeding Mayfair ambulance rushing down the road.

*  
From: Sam Iam Date: Fri Jul 23, 2004 12:36 pm Subject: Threading the Needle

Mike Stoker shouted into the handy talkie perched onto his shoulder. "Rampart this is Engine 51." he yelled through his SCBA mask. "My victim is unresponsive to pain and under full ventilation support. I have access to basic airway equipment as the squad is off scene. Victim is showing a sudden onset rash across his torso and neck with no evidence of hives. Chest rise is nominal.  
There is no obstruction we can see.." he said as he got an affirming nod from Marco who checked yet again for the effectiveness of the demand valve's seal over Johnny's face.  
The latin american firefighter was watching closely for signs of movement in Gage's limbs or eyelids and for bad airway trouble in the form of chest noise.

The engineer sighed as he watched Cap run fast to coordinate the evacuation of city hall with a hand held megaphone. He could see Hank was torn between learning more about their inadvertent chemical problem and conducting the start of a Level 1 CIS setup.  
As yet, there were no other engines, nor batallion chiefs within earshot. Stoker and Kelly and Lopez never felt so alone as they did in that moment when Cap disappeared in the crowd.

## 10-4, Engine 51.. uh, is this Mike Stoker #  
came Dr. Brackett's face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett tilted his head in surprise at Dixie. He lifted his finger from the talk button.  
"I wonder where Roy is?" he frowned at McCall.

Dixie handed him a chart. "Joe handled his call.  
He's on the way with an unconscious. A male of about 45. Roy said he was an unknown type seizure with pyschotic episode with no known etiology other than possible rabies.. Six minutes out."

##That's affirmative, Rampart.## came Stoker's muffled reply on the radio to Kel's question.

Kel lost all doubt in the firefighter's abilities.  
"Stoker. You know the drill. Have your head man start hyperventilating him. I'll walk you through best I can. I know you've never done one in the field but I have full confidence in you. I should know, I trained you. Now things'll be harder to see on a live person than what you were used to from the program. At no time do you hurry. The soft palate's sensitive in some cases of collapse and the last thing we need is a laryngospasm clamping down and really making things difficult. Let me know when you see the vocal cords, Mike.. You have a minute after Johnny stops getting vented in order to get in a successful route. If you can't get one. Wait. Just hyperventilate again for another two minutes and then try it. Suction is critical if he vomits from his chemical exposure. Be sure to watch out for that."

Stoker's jaw set into a firm line. He didn't even notice a hose dripping Chet insert himself between Marco and his arms to start applying crycoid pressure. "I got this. And a flashlight so you can see what you're doing.."  
Kelly coughed and he threaded his second gloved arm through Mike's hands to light up Gage's face.

Marco had already placed an engine block under Gage's shoulders to keep his head fallen back.

"Are you hurt?" Stoker asked Kelly, without looking up from the blade of the scope he was placing carefully into the right side of Johnny's mouth. "Give me the time."

"Twenty eight seconds since the last breath. And no..." Chet said. "Just handle Johnny. L.A. says that 24's is four minutes away. Can you see them yet?" he mumbled through his breathing gear as he kept up the hold that now showed Mike the only passageway down.

Stoker's forehead began to sweat. "Where are they?"  
he whispered to himself, moving the strangely foamy palate away with his blade, searching for the pearly white vocal cords. Louder he said, "Marco, hand me a size 7.0 and peel it. D*mn.. Grade 2, I'm not seeing all the cords, he's swelling a bit.."

"Take your time, man. Gage's ok, his color's still very good."Lopez said quietly. "Here. I got it near your left hand."

Mike slid the MacIntosh blade a little lower and groped for the endotrachael tube. Suddenly,  
Johnny's throat locked up and clamped shut.  
His mouth fell open in an astonished "oh.." that translated into the handy talkie.

##What's the problem, 51?## came Brackett's voice.

"Spasm.. It happened when I lifted the scope. I can't see anything.." Mike said a little too fast.

##Relax Stoker. You must've bumped the superior nerve. It'll ease in a bit since he's not chilled. You guys haven't given him his hose bath yet. Just bag him gently on ambu until it loosens. Bound to from hypoxia.  
Flood him with O2 and try again.## Kel said firmly.  
##We've plenty of time..##

"Should I let go?" Chet said of his pressure hold.

"No..." Mike said. "You're probably keeping him from getting sick. Don't want him aspirating. Keep his esophagus sealed off just like you're doing."

Kelly was nervous and took the suction wand up into his free hand nonetheless. Gage's chin twitched.  
"Is he waking?"

"Nah. Doc said it's all reflex in class." Mike gasped as he kept a cross fingers scissor between Johnny's teeth to keep him from injuring himself on the blade's guide.

##Try pulling back a little, 51.## Dr. Brackett said.  
##There'll be less stimulus..##

Mike eased back just a bit and withdrew the blade up an inch and suddenly, a vocal cord popped into view when Gage's neck muscles stopped cording. "There! I'm threading it." he announced with more confidence than he felt. He tried to keep his hands from trembling.

Kelly looked at his watch. "52 seconds."

Stoker slowly advanced the tube until it settled onto its mark. "I'm in." he said. "Hand me the ambu.." he said, inflating the airway's internal bottom cuff with a syringe.

Marco grabbed for it, making sure the oxygen flow was very high and passed it off to Mike.

Stoker snapped the bag's feeder end onto the tube and gasped. "Ok.. Check both sides. Is it all right?" he asked quickly, giving the paramedic rapid, full breaths to get his blood back to normal.

Kelly listened with a stethoscope. "He sounds like a seashell to me. Nice and even, too. Left is the same as right."

"Stomach?"#Stomach?#" Stoker asked at the same time as Brackett.

"Nothing.." Kelly smiled, grinning as he pulled off the earpieces.

##Nice work gentlemen.. Keep an eye on his pulse and then slow your vent rate to 12 a minute in 30 seconds.  
Tape it off to keep the tube from sliding out when you transport him.## Dr. Brackett smiled verbally.

"I got that." Marco volunteered. He looked over his shoulder.  
"Cap, he's pink and beautiful and both lungs are accepting." he shouted. "There's no problems at all.."  
Hank visibly relaxed and stopped double taking as he issued orders to the security guards on where to tell people to go.

Kelly left the suction tube laying over Gage's chest and rose from knees to his squatting toes. "Radio me if he changes. I'm sure Cap'll want us by him if that happens." he said smacking his own chest and waving a hand at an already distracted Marco Lopez.

"Go.. I'm good now.." Stoker said, inwardly smiling at his success. "Piece of cake." he said shakily.

Chet had to peel his fingers off Gage's throat crycoid cartilage ring with his free glove. "Just call me a leech. Sorry, Gage."

"Worth the bruising. I'm sure Johnny won't mind when he finds out what we all did together." Mike said.

"I don't want Gage or DeSoto's job anytime soon, thanks anyways, Stoker."

"Yeah, but it's nice to know we're effective backup."  
Stoker nodded, dropping a glove to Gage's carotid to time its rate.

Stoker watched Chet Kelly join Hank as he tried once again to raise Roy's Mayfair, this time, using the ambulance radio frequency and not the HT's.

A minute later, Squad 24's sirens grew in the distance and two paramedics swiftly approached where Mike and Gage were in the street. The older paramedic pointed down when he saw that Gage was intubated so neatly. "Who did this?" he demanded through his SCBA faceplate.

"I did.." Stoker grinned. "My first."

The graying maned man's eyebrows climbed into his hairline but a knowing smile played at his lips as he and his partner busied themselves with getting a full set of vitals.  
"Ok, genius. Congratulations. Now go play fireman and leave US something to do, ok, Slick?"

Mike Stoker floated back to Cap's side.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photos : None.

*  
From : Cory Anda Sent : Saturday, July 24, 2004 12:58 AM Subject : The Lit Match Effect "Is he doing good?" Captain Stanley asked his two men who joined him to stand in a trio as the flood of people poured out city hall exhibiting a rainbow of emotions.  
None were tempted to ask the firemen the reason for their sudden eviction from work.

"His pulse was regular, and full, Cap. I think so.  
Won't know until the squad paramedics get done checking him out." Mike Stoker admitted.

"Fine, fine. Go string two inch and three quarters with a Y connector. Let's play this like Hazmat's gonna wanna scrub everyone in sight." Hank ordered, clapping a glove over his engineer's shoulder. "Nice job, pal." he said seriously. "Sorry you were thrown into the deep end as paramedic intermediate so soon.."

"I'm just glad I was there, Cap." Stoker said, rechecking the dial on his air bottle to make sure his own supply wasn't low because of the heightened stress level he had felt then.

"Go.." Hank said, waving Mike off. Kelly started to follow Mike to help when Cap whistled, getting his attention. Chet whirled and then spotted Cap waggling come here fingers with his command HT still pressed tightly over his helmeted ear around his mask straps. "Kelly. Front and center!"

Kelly had on a new jacket that he got from the rear compartment of the Ward. He jogged over to Hank and rested, bending over with his hands on his knees as he listened to what he had to say when Cap leaned in close.

"I still can't raise Roy. We gotta get em back here pronto.  
I'm not about to let possibly contaminated people into a hospital setting."

"What about that man's care?" Chet said before he could bite his tongue and retract it back again.

"We'll call the docs here, into the Rehab Area when it's set up.  
Keep trying for me.. The other engines are arriving, I have to go tell them and the chiefs what's going on here." Cap shouted.

"Ok." and he took out his handy talkie and turned it to the same frequency that Cap showed him.

Hank ran to the middle of the street, orchestrating the arriving engine companies parking formation. He sent them to the ends of the block on both sides of his Ward, which was positioned centrally. Then he heard the tones from L.A. to change to the situation commander's frequency for Batallion Ten and did so.

Chet Kelly moved to set a foot on the step of the engine near where Stoker and Lopez were tending the hydrant outside city hall and he spoke. "Engine 51 to HT 51 on Mayfair Channel One. Over."

On the highway, speeding down the Ventura Expressway, the driver of Roy's ambulance heard. He thumbed the mic on his CB radio. "Mayfair Six with Squad 51."

Kelly glommed onto the connection. "Recall back to our scene Mayfair Six, Code Three. Your victim and paramedic may have been exposed to hazardous chemicals. Report for immediate decontamination. Hazmat is arranging a doctor to cover your situation at our location. Over.."

"10-4. Recalling for Hazmat decon.." said the white coated driver and he made a controlled U-ie off the next major exit.

Naturally, Roy DeSoto opened the patient compartment window between them. "What's the problem?"

"It's one of your people, declaring a Hazmat condition on us.  
I'm heading back right now." the driver told Roy.

DeSoto oggled for a second, then nodded and shut the partition to sit back down in the cab seat at the man's head. His patient was quiet now, Dr. Early's diazepam having done wonders for his convulsions. Having been warned, Roy began to rinse his hands from a saline bag before donning protective rubber gloves for himself. Sorely wanting information,  
he switched his HT to the paramedic scanning frequency to listen in.

He was shocked to find Squad 24 talking about a Code I and when Brackett called Johnny by name, Roy almost slipped out of his seat belt. They weren't yet using the biophone channel which didn't surprise him due to the new crisis situation preventing such a luxury. He hung on every word. He began to curse the benefit of the HT private band call, which handily allowed identities to be named over the air.

##.. 24, is Gage showing signs of consciousness yet#  
Kel Brackett asked.

##Negative, Rampart, despite the hosedown. ## replied the man Roy recognized as Brice's partner, Bob Belliveau.

## Has he started breathing adequately on his own yet?..##

##Negative, he's still on ET ambu. ##

"What?!!" Roy exclaimed aloud. The window into the driver's compartment snapped open. "Nothin.." he snarled when the attendant peered in at driver shrugged and closed the slot again.

Roy kept his eyes on the EKG monitor and his ear to the radio when he heard the order given for Narcan and Atropine.  
"Yeah,..yeah, that'll do it. Even if it's a pesticide or something just as bad." he mumbled. "Johnny you better start breathing again or I'll kill ya."

His self reassurance did nothing to make him feel better.  
He could only will the Mayfair on to a faster speed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kelly shouted loudly to be heard over the crowd moving away from them. "HO!" he yelled, getting Cap's attention.

Hank rubbernecked. Chet drew a circling motion in the air and saw Cap give him a thumbs up before he started speaking with the CIS commander again about plans.

Soon, the out of service Squad 51 was moved to a side street and Captain Stanley motioned his men into a huddle so they could hear each other. "Thank god for the public's tendency to overreact. Fortune's in our favor, gang. The yokles in city hall security not only cleared out the effected floor but the whole place. You three sweep in and see if you can locate the source of the problem in lifelines." Kelly, Lopez and Stoker started away but Cap snagged their shoulders. "With FRESH air bottles, understood?"

Three masked nods greeted him.

"This is an internal search until we know more. Do this hoseless.  
Stringing them'll only eat up too much time. Pull out at the slightest sign of trouble, got that?"

More nods and furlative glances swept toward the now empty tan brick building.

Cap said, "We're the only station in the middle of the block.  
The others have squared off on all points north, south, and east of us for the primary attack set up. Only Squad 24 is still with us until Johnny's stabilized. Everyone else is on a block end. Move."

Lopez, Stoker and Kelly strung out rappelling ropes from the Engine's store and tied them on. All three entered the building and began a search pattern, starting with the second floor office where they had first encountered the man. Nothing seemed amiss. Then Lopez got everyone's focus with a whistle when he spotted a stairwell door ajar that led into a no exit basement, incongruent with the possibility that any evacuees could have used it. "That's open guys. Don't you think that's a little odd?" he yelled over the hissing of his air bottle.

The other two agreed. And followed him down the brightly lit stairs which led into the sub basement.

They searched the boiler room. It was clear. Then the electrical room.  
It, too, was fine. Then they tried a storage room labelled Spare Mail Store and found it barricaded shut despite the open lock turning door knob. Kelly shouldered it wide open and staggered into a room full of homemade chemical laboratory equipment. Excessive trash including large amounts of antifreeze containers, lantern fuel cans, red chemically stained coffee filters, drain cleaners and duct tape littered the floor and the stench of acetone was almost overwhelming,  
even through their faceplates. The tables were a collection of chemical bottles, glassware, hoses, and pressurized cylinders, including modified propane tanks, and stolen city hall fire extinguishers.

Chet took one look at the blacked out basement windows before he said. "It's a g*d d*mned crank lab in here."

"Should we go air it out?" Lopez asked him.

Stoker snatched them both back into the doorway. "No! There's cooking going on. Look! I'll just bet that stuff over there's red phosphorus and iodine! Let's get out of here.." and he pointed out the ominous glow of an active open flame bunsen burner.

The three firefighters suddenly knew that their lives were in great danger. Kelly almost thumbed his radio to give a report when Marco slammed his arm down. "Don't! A spark from your HT might set it all off! Let's go!"

Chet went.

The firemen pummelled out of city hall at breakneck speed and down the front steps a minute later shouting the bad news. Their panic spread through the fire station ranks and they looked up at the motion and sudden voices.

Cap was charting his slate by the engine.

Stoker shouted. "Get back! Get back! Meth lab and it's still cooking!"

Hank startled and ducked behind the engine as his men joined him.  
"What?! "

"It's huge, Cap.." Marco gasped, leaning down. "We guess over a half a ton of ingredients and white gas."

"We'd better get out of here. Stoker. Drop our hoses from the bed.  
We'll motor out to the other units on Big Red." Hank said calmly.  
He whistled through his teeth. "Man, who'd've figured? In the middle of sweet little old downtown city of Carson?" He raised the engine's mic to call out their discovery to the HazMat units yet to come and the fire stations already there.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy began to recognize the neighborhood. He tapped the window door and it opened. "Let's head to the west side. That's where my station was. Most likely they've been picked to be the decontam wash truck, being nearest. Head down that way.."

The driver turned down a sidestreet and turned off his siren, finally spotting the familiar side of the stately building.

Squad 51 and Squad 24 were still angled at the foot of the city hall steps. And a body was on the ground on a yellow tarp with a cluster of air bottled firemen over him ::Johnny!:: Roy thought. Then he ordered. "Stop here. They're in masks. We don't wanna take in any fumes if there are any.." he cautioned, and the brakes of the Mayfair squeaked metallically as it halted in the center of the road perpendicular to the road the fire trucks were on.

Then Roy spotted something strange. Engine 51 was speeding backwards,  
and away from the squads whose personnel suddenly kicked into high gear in a desperate escape with their firefighter paramedic patient in a stokes, some running with him, the others piling into the two rescue squads.

DeSoto was about to turn his radio back over to the main CIS channel to find out why, when city hall suddenly disintegrated into fragments of raw fire and a plume of glowing vapored debris.

A tremendous explosion ripped across two whole city blocks, rupturing subterranean gas mains and causing side explosions to crater the street curbs into long flaming fissured trenches deep into the earth.

A pregnant fiery orange and black mushroom loomed a hellish head over the Mayfair, Engine 51's vehicles and Squad 24, before Roy's vision was knocked out from a massive concussion wall of displaced atmosphere and heat that roared through the open ambulance door.

The kick slammed the rear Mayfair hatch closed and the ambulance jolted,  
throwing around the two ambulance attendants, Roy and the man on the gurney.

Then a heavy blanket of debris, dust and roaring fire snuffed out their view to the outside as it covered them, until they were locked into a tomb that was completely lightless and airless.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo : A neighborhood in Carson City, skyline.

Photo : A photo of a collapsed building with a crowd in front.

Photo : Cap ducking behind the engine in a flinch.

Photo : A massive mushrooming explosion.

Photo: Roy and two ambulance attendants wounded in a Mayfair.

*  
From : patti keiper Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Cooler.. Sent : Thursday, July 29, 2004 7:49 AM

Mike Stoker managed to swing the front end of the Ward away from the concussive wave of the methamphetamine lab explosion that destroyed Carson City Hall. His gloved hands cranked on the wheel hard to the left as the swollen belly of the building sized fire ball swept low over the top of Engine 51.

The engineer couldn't help it. He flinched. So did Chet, Marco,  
and Cap.

"Hang on!" Hank's voice cut loudly, as a rock on rock, hollow like sucking roar overtook their immediate vicinity. All he saw was fire out the windows. Then a ball of heat lifted the hair around his helmet and ruffled it and fogged out his air mask as the dew point was met,  
exceeded, then water dessicated. ::Mother of-- I hope to h*ll the others got under some cover in time.::

Marco Lopez instinctively pulled the four of them around Stoker's driver's seat in a body hugging huddle that protected their exposed faces as the massive blast blossomed, expanded and annihilated itself over them. "Madre Dios! Too close. Too close! We've got to get out of here!"

"Working on it.." came Mike's gasping voice through his SCBA.  
The firetruck's engine was laboring over the thin air, sputtering as the motor dug for atmosphere to burn in. Stoker kicked it into the lowest gear. "The air's a different color over there. Heading over to it!"

"Ahh! Keep your masks on!" Kelly said. "An empty water bottle by my feet just blew up!"

"Vacuum effect! Open your mouths up as wide as you can!" Hank shouted to his crew, clutching the handy talkie he couldn't see in the lava glow darkness. Captain Stanley no sooner said that when a second explosion rocked the accelerating Ward from the left and pressure stabbed spears of agony through their eardrums.

Then the way ahead was clear. A center calm in a ring of fire at an intersection. Mike Stoker took the richer air route and plunged them all into a parking lot, bouncing over a curb with both axles. Equipment inside the cab jostled, and fell from their storage hooks. Others did the same, clanging loudly from inside their rear engine holding compartments.

"There! There! A loading dock is open!" Kelly shouted.

"Can we clear it?" Hank yelled, gripping the dark red seat back in a fierce hold.

"Yeah!"

"Then in we go! Watch for Squads 24 and 51. They were riding in our wake."

"I see em!" Chet shouted. Two sets of flashing lights cut through the orange cloudy murk before a roof of black shut out the sun.

A sign flashed by that was tacked onto the building and Hank gave a nod of satisfaction as they shot inside the loading area.  
"Of all the dumb luck.."

Mike Stoker screeched Engine 51's brakes inside the low ceiling garage and he canted her at a forty five, so that the two squads could get by into the interior.

The last bumper no sooner cleared the edge of the door when the retracting door descended in a bang as an emergency cord was pulled on the door's automatic opener. The ebony smoke and deafening noise roiling in behind them was choked off.

A new voice and figure in medical blue came running towards them. "Are you guys all right? Oh my G*d. We saw City Hall go through our windows. It was only by chance that I spotted you."  
said the very fit white haired man before their bumpers.

Cap peeled off a sweaty mask as they piled out of the engine,  
catching their breaths. "Appreciate the shelter, doc. Help us?  
"We've got a wounded firefighter here..." he said, pointing to the paramedic on the roof of Squad 24, checking over Gage's airway patency and carotid status as he bagged him.

Doctor Scribbs hastened to help the Station 51 four unload him to the ground.

Chet was peeling off his mask, too, staring dumbly at the mattressless steel gurneys lined up on the wall and the sparkling black hearse parked under the flourescent lights. "Aw, Cap.. Didja have to pick the morgue for us to hide in?"

Hank erupted, "I didn't think of in here! Stoker did.."

"Guilty.." said the engineer, coughing lightly.

"And a smart thing, too. " Hank grinned. The ME office has its own internal air and ventilation system, at least in the morgue areas. That's where we'll be heading next. In there will be the perfect decontam station for Gage. Scrubbing drains,  
solid thick walls, a refrigeration unit so we won't cook. We couldn't have found a better haven than this. We'll even have our own power generator. This place needs one to keep the chiller running at all times for obvious reasons."

Chet's face fell into a barely veiled blend of disgust and apprehension. But he bit his tongue from issuing any rejoiners.

Station 24's Bob Belliveau nodded at Gil Sheppard, his partner. "Did he take any detriment, Gil?" he asked about Gage.

"Nah.. it was hot only for a few seconds." said the short stocky paramedic. "His vents never quit althought I had to snuff the oxygen off. The two assigned with us from our engine are fine, too." he said, jerking a gloved thumb over his shoulder at the men gathered around Captain Stanley. He yelled over to the tall man from 51's, issuing information into his radio. "That's everyone who was with us, Cap!" he related. Then he stooped to reassess John Gage in a closer survey, reapplying his own air bottle's faceplate before he did so, maintaining a barrier distance.

"Nine for a head count and all ." Cap proceeded to report out to outer fringe fire stations that had most likely seen them horrifically disappear under the fire ball. "L.A., Engine 51. We're ok. Squad 51 and Squad 24 are with us inside the Medical Examiner's Office Garage. All hands are accounted for. One victim and eight men.  
We're sitting tight to wait it out. Note we're in a very safe place.  
Make our break out priority a bit less."

##10-4, Engine 51. The Incident Commander on Foster Ave has been notified. Battalion asks if you are attack capable. ##

"Not known at this time. My engineer's doing a walk around. Stand by."

##Standing by, Engine 51. Your frequency is being relayed to the CIC. Transmit at need after the open channel prompt.##

"Copy, L.A." Hank said, leaning heavily on his knees as he swept his eyes over the firemen spreading out through the garage bay to make sure the raging fire outside wasn't coming in. Soon, the triple treble of an on air signal sounded from all their HT's. "Sounds like they're linked with us out there. Now let's see how we're doing in here. Stoker? Is she intact?"  
he asked as he carefully felt the chassis of the Ward for heat and blistering. He kicked a tire.

Mike's hands flew over the chrome controls.  
"Yes, the hoses weren't melted and the panel's showing green on all dials. Neither of our tanks are reading as compromised. Fuel or water."

"Then hook her up to the water main over there." he said pointing to the emergency stairwell leading up to second level of the county building. Stoker could just see a fire hose accordianed on hooks in the landing behind glass. "Use their lines for now."  
Cap ordered.

"I'll leave them uncharged until we know what side of the building we're going to attack from."

"How about from the roof?" Hank suggested. "That's where the spot fires will be and that's well above the street gas line ruptures. I'll just bet the CIC has a vertical attack already planned out. I'll radio out in a few minutes to see if our building's in the Hot Zone, not counting whatever space Gage will end up in."

Five minutes later, the task was done. A long, inch and three quarters soon noodled neatly on the concrete floor.

Right then, the garage door sucked out in a convex bow with a loud smack of aluminum as the air inside the coroner's building evacuated violently out to the fire outside. The door groaned at the stresses being applied to it. But it held admirably.

"Everybody inside! We're out of time in our current spot.." Cap.  
"That's probably a backflash encroaching. Grab what you can. We'll come back to fight the fire only when we're able."

"What about the spare air bottles, Cap?" Kelly asked.

"Grab just the 02 tanks for Gage." he replied. "And anything else that's critical for triage. Later we may become a disaster station. Doc, right now, consider us all contaminated.  
Gage got into an unknown chemical exposure from a meth lab. It was in the spare mail room in the basement of city hall."

Scribbs face opened in shock, then anger. "A crank lab was operating five hundred feet away from here? That's appalling!"

"That's what I thought when Lopez and Kelly and Stoker here found it." he smiled sadly.

The fire fighters gathered both squads' medical equipment in a rapid assembly line into the stairwell as the two still masked medics carried Gage into the morgue rooms one level up.

Chet Kelly wasn't one with Johnny's litter and he needed a strong shove from Marco before he entered the suite, his eyes huge. "T--T-There's bodies in here.."

"No kidding, Chet. Out of the way. Or better yet, take this biophone over to where Belliveau and Sheppard are setting up. They're gonna need it."

Hank grabbed the medical examiner's arm after he was certain that the doctor was the last one to enter the suite of rooms.  
"Listen, doc. Is your staff upstairs, safe?"

"Oh yes.." said Scribbs. "I shooed them out the front doors the moment it happened. They're all past the perimeter. It's just me my clients left now." and he shot meaningful eyes over to several sheet shrouded forms lying on tables at the far end of the room.

Cap worked a miracle keeping his expression from changing.

Doc Scribbs chuckled at the curly haired fireman's reactions. "I only lagged behind to make sure the fire didn't get to them. That's why I was about to close the bay door when you and your singed bunch showed up. Welcome to my parlor, boys. Let's get down to business now, shall we?" he said as he swung the morgue's protective heavy metal door shut with an echoey bang. "I've showers for everyone."

All the firefighters shuddered.

"We can set your young injured fireman here on the main table. We can do him first." said the energetic medical examiner.

Kelly peeped. "But, there's somebody already on that table.."

"That's all right. " Scribbs trickled. "I'm sure you two strong fellas can manage carrying her back to the cooler. I finished her autopsy this morning. I'll just neaten up after a bit before you transfer your friend out of the stokes. Oh, here. Let me open the cooler door for you."

Kelly and Lopez gulped.

Cap's face was about as pale as his mens'. "You heard the man. Move.."

They went, shifting the grisly burden in their arms, ready to lift her weight.

"Doc, we don't have to worry about anything.. uh, any bits tumbling out, do we?"

"Oh, no. I sewed her back up again. I used just a lazy S incision for a standard weighing."

"Oh,... thanks.." said Lopez in a small voice as they hefted her up and disappeared with her into the dark chiller.

"Boys.. " shouted Scribbs after them. "Don't forget to put one of the wooden blocks from the shelf under her head so she'll hard-- uh, present on a pillow in her coffin properly later on."

There was no reply to that.

The doc began cheerfully whistling at the novelty of having guests who could talk back for once.

The paramedics busied themselves with stripping Johnny down when the doc was ready, for a thorough warm, soap and water head to toe scouring. Afterwards, they bundled him up in the only thing available for insulation. They put him inside a clean canvas cloth body bag.

Cap excused himself from the proceedings once he felt Gage's medical and hazmat care were well underhand and he drew Stoker aside a few minutes later after hearing about a frightening development.  
"Mike, go to the window and see if you can spot Roy's ambulance."

"What?!" Stoker startled, remember the h*ll they had just escaped.

Cap imposed an immediate clamp down.  
"Now, don't alarm the others. Everyone's jumpy enough as it is with us being cooped up in here for the duration with all the cadavers.  
Just do a reconnaissance from what you see. If you do spot him.  
We'll be going out there so prepare yourself. We'll do the engine later.  
No doubt we'll be testing the limits of the Ward's design specs when and if it comes time for us to go back out there. No one asked how a Ward engine would work from INSIDE a flaming holocaust."

Mike nodded and quietly went over to the small port and sat down with a pair of binoculars from the brush fire apparatus case and got right down to an intense search.

Belliveau noticed him, for another reason. "How's the view?"  
he said, looking up from Gage's EKG monitor.

Stoker said, "Busy. But it looks like the perimeter's been determined. All the fires I see are roof points only, a few cars involved. The subterranean gas mains are off. I don't see any more explosions from the street curbs. Ah,, there's an aerial now. Looks like they've been assigned to protect us." On cue, the window splattered with a few drops of cool water, hissing as it fell. "And that means, that few bystanders or motorists got nailed when the lab blew."

"That's a relief.."

Stoker returned a glance at the two paramedics. "How's Gage doing?"

"Better. Vitals are improving. His pressure's coming up.  
Whatever it was that was suppressing them is gone now.  
Though I'd wish to heck that I knew what it was that we're dealing with."

"I'll try to find out." Stoker said, raising his HT.

The older medic turned away.

Mike went back to fretting about finding the missing Mayfair.

A handful of minutes later, he spotted an incongruent patch of white and orange with a broken antennae sticking lopsidedly above it. "Cap.." he motioned, pointing.

Hank moved to the engineer's side and took up the binoculars.  
"That's him. Go shower up and meet us in the stairwell, in full SCBA. You're the last to get one. I'll have the others check out the garage to see if it's still safe down there."

Stoker nodded.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Dripping and clean, the six non medic firefighters made their way back to street level. There, Hank broke the news of the discovery of Roy's buried ambulance on the street between them and where city hall used to be.

"Is he still alive?" Chet asked. "There was no air out there for a while!"  
he panicked.

Cap raised appeasing hands. "We don't know. Stoker saw their radio antennae but it was split."

"What about the biophone?" Marco asked, more calmly than Chet.

"Out for the same reason." Cap answered. "Now check your air masks.  
Switch out for fresh ones once we get down there. Stoker, charge the stairwell water hose into the engine as a supply line. We'll take the one you strung earlier with us when we go."

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Kelly said. "Roy and everybody will fry if we move any slower. Come on..."

Hank told Battalion the new situation and their plan of action.  
He was told that the aerial on the other side of the building had no way to move in as backup.

They were on their own, working off E-51, solo.

A quick survey showed that a down draft between the sky scrapers was creating a clear circle of air that pushed the ring of fire inside the crater where city hall used to be away from the coroner's office parking lot.

Mike Stoker shared the good news, "The way's open and workable."  
he said through the crack of the warp bulged garage door.

The fully SCBA'd firefighters set to with tools and axes to knock down the only barrier between them and the debris covered Mayfair under Stoker's cooling hose fan. He made them halt at the opening while he shot a stream into a pile of debris in a test. No hissing or discolored gases reacted to the water raining down on it. "Whatever was in that lab, Cap. It's not volatile to water out this far."

"Good. Last thing we need is more outgassing." he said remembering Chet's stinging eyes from before. "Let's advance ten feet and start picking away this debris with pikes. Watch for power lines. Odergard!  
Take over Mike's lead. I'm having him take out the Engine behind us as we advance!"

The way before them wasn't easy. Shards of glass from the explosion damaged windows above them constantly rained down on them and wind blown bits of burning roof material. Foot by foot, they neared the place where Stoker said the Mayfair lay buried.

A tumbled burning billboard sign sliced the supply line in two when it impacted the pavement and the stairwell side of the hose started bucking around the garage door frame opening. The half feeding the engine, went limp and useless, tattered and dragging on the ground.

"Leave it!" Cap ordered. "We'll pull just off the engine's tank for now.  
Our recovery push has the priority!" Inside, he wondered. ::Just how long can our 400 gallon water reservoir last in all this heat? Guess we're gonna find out.::

===================================================

Roy DeSoto coughed, shaking himself awake. The first thing he did was give an order to Malcolm, the attendant in the back with him, "Shut off all the oxygen! Do it now!" he said, groping around the spilled medical supplies around him for a flashlight. Roy could see active fire licking the back windows. He flicked on the torch to find them sitting on the side wall of the ambulance, the gurney still latch clamped to the floor with his patient hanging there from his straps. Not surprisingly,  
the man was awake. "Get me out of here! I'm gonna fall...*cough* "  
moaned the man.

"The main valve's off.." Malcolm told Roy, cradling a broken arm.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I just bled the regulator by feel. It's dead." the ambulance attendant assured him.

Roy nodded at Malcolm's injury but the rippled haired man waved him off. "Check on Art. I haven't heard him at all yet."

Reaching out in the darkness, DeSoto found the yellow air bottle that he had taken with him in his haste to leave for Rampart. It was something he always did in brush fire season. Just to have it between his knees, even riding inside the squad within city limits.  
Now, it was going to pay him dividends. He slipped into its mask.

Roy suppressed his own fear and ignored the cut he felt throbbing on his forehead. "We're gonna be fine." he told them both. Then he pinned a stare at his patient, who was ripping off his EKG pads and wires. " I'll deal with you after I check out our driver, ok, mister....." he dug for information.

"..Smith..." said the worker evasively. " John B. Smith. " when he realized by the outside lab smell filtering in to him on just what his current situation was. "Let me outta here now!"

"Mr. Smith... Quit thrashing around. Malcolm's gonna free you.  
Now we're much safer in here than we'll be out there so just relax. Let me get by to the front. You hurt anywhere?" he asked him. The man's head shake answered back. "Good. Now just hang tight for a sec. Art?! You ok up there?" DeSoto said pounding on the narrow peek window of the ambulance. He opened it.

A wall of bitter, burning smoke rushed in and all Roy got was a glimpse of spidered glass, twisted metal and blood where the front end of the Mayfair used to be.

The cab was completely flattened and so was the roof, right over where Art had once been sitting behind the wheel. A person shaped charcoal colored mass fully on fire lay across the seat now.

DeSoto slammed the window shut with a gasp. His look told Malcolm all he needed to know.

"What's that new smell?" complained their impatient patient. " I think I'm going to be sick."

Roy covered his nose and mouth with a hand to hide his stunned reaction. "Try to breathe slow, Mr. Smith. You're only going to pass out again if you keep hyperventilating. How do you feel?"

"How am I supposed to feel? Like sh*t! Now, I-- I-m trapped in what looks like an ambulance that got caught when our crystal meth cookery blew up. And here we are tipped ov--" Mr. Smith broke off when he realized what he was saying.

Roy's eyes narrowed as he took a pull off his air mask,  
handing it to Malcolm so that he could breathe in a clean lungful.  
" Mr. Smith. Am I hearing you right? Now I believe you better start levelling with me right now. A lot of lives are in danger from that noxious mess that you and your chem cooking buddies created so carelessly. Now, the hazmat team handling this's gonna haveta know what main ingredients you were using and how much!"

"Ain't gonna talk without my lawyer." the shifty man said flatly with only a little intelligence. "I'm choking here. Give me some air like you're giving him."

"No, you're contaminated with something that I don't know about.  
I don't wanna increase the risk to Malcolm and I by sharing with you." DeSoto replied quietly.

"Just what kind of paramedic are you withholding care from me!  
I'll tell my lawyer. Just how would you like a charge of malpractice on your hands Fireman DeSoto.." he glared, reading Roy's dusty name tag. "And I'll charge your friend here, too. He shut off my oxygen."  
And Mr. Smith reached for the valve that would turn on the flow to the mask hanging around his neck.

Roy tackled his arm away. "There's fire out there! Are you sick or something?!"

The man nodded animatedly, yanking out his I.V. with a jerk and folding his arm up. "Ummm Hmm and crazy.. Why do you think I staggered into the supe's office and collapsed on the floor? I was feeling lousy. Mac mixed something that wasn't pure." Again the bald headed lanky druggie clamped a hand over his mouth to silence himself.  
He immediately started coughing when the stench from the forward cab began to leak through the cracked window. "Come on! You guys are already contaminated from touching me because of the way we're all pretzeled together around this gurney. Gimme some air, I--I'm ..*gag* choking on the dead guy.."

Roy's mouth pressed into a firm line as he took his turn to suck on his SCBA tank mask. "Not until you give me a list of everything in that lab, starting with the largest quantity medium first."

-  
The six firemen watched the fires raging above them intently. The sky had grown grayer. They first thought it was smoke but soon it proved to be a rare California cloud burst.

The rain fell but was evaporated before it hit the ground in front of them and the fire started from the building debris began igniting a cocoon of fire around them and the engine.

"Into the cab! Into the cab! Now!" Cap shouted. "Get up onto the hose bed if you have to. Kelly, Lopez ! Knock that down before we burn!"

Two of the firemen climbed onto the roof as Stoker advanced Engine 51 ahead. The moment the way was clear and just steaming, they leaped onto the Mayfair patient compartment.

Hank was just as fast on HT as he was on his feet. He joined 24's men on pounding on the skin of the ambulance. "Roy!  
Can you hear me?" he shouted into the HT on Roy's band.

Muffled solid pounds answered back to their great relief.

Three times, the swirling fire igniting the debris in the parking lot threatening the ambulance while a K-12 split open the shell encasing Roy and the others before Kelly and Lopez's single line pushed it back again.

"Benzene, Cap!.. Gage got into benzene!" said, Roy thrusting a rumpled bill of lading through the sizzling gap. "He had this in his pocket. The whole damned * choke* list."

"Got it.. Radioing it out." Then Cap was back reaching into the hole for Roy's arm. "You guys ok in there?" said Cap quickly. "We already know about the driver. Any back or neck injuries?"  
he said while his men worked to fold back the skin.

"Malcolm's got a broken arm. Just get us out of here.."  
Roy said. "How's Johnny?"

"He's doing ok. Stoker intubated him."

"What?! Any complications? I mean.. d- did it work?"  
DeSoto said as he was pulled outside.

"Course it worked! I'm Brackett's star pupil remember?"  
Mike grinned enthusiastically from inside the idling Ward.

Then the water ran out and his smile faded instantly.

"Our welcome's just got jaded pal. Ready to move?  
Side fires are pressing in, Roy." Hank said.

DeSoto crouched down looking back through the hole in the Mayfair as 24's men hoisted an arm splinted Malcolm out. "Yeah. But our crook's not cooperating. He said he wanted to stay in there when you guys showed up."

"Oh really..." Cap said glowering.

A ladder hook to the shirt collar soon fished the reluctant patient out. Malcolm and Mr. Smith were given SCBAs to wear and everyone climbed onto the Ward's hose bed as the fire mounted around them.

"Go! Stoker Go!" Cap said, as he smacked the roof of the engine cab. "Back to the garage. Ram the billboard clutter out of the way if you have to. Just get us back inside in one piece!"

Stoker reversed direction after Kelly and Lopez cast off the useless hose. The tires on the engine began to smoulder as she was moved slower and slower due to reduced visibility.

Mike Stoker shouted. "I don't think the engine can take much more of this, Captain!"

"She's gonna have to!" Hank said, huddling down with the rest of them on top over the injured Malcolm and the blubbering Mr.  
Smith. "Put the petal to the metal, Pal, even on rims!"

Everybody swatted cinders landing on everybody else for long seconds. Then a current of white frothy liquid from an unexpected source covered them in a drenching cold deluge. A team of fire fighters using alcohol foam from the roof of a nearby house coated Engine 51 and put out her fires.

The Ward swept into the morgue garage moments after.

Soon, it was back into hiding for all of them while the Carson City fire raged on.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos : The Hazmat placard for benzene.

Photo : Cap and another cap near engine.

Photo : Cap, Roy and Johnny lowering stokes.

Photo : A building fire being attacked by foam hoses.

Photo : Roy, livid with a face cut.

Photo : Blood on a shattered windshield.

Photo : A picture of an empty morgue room.

Photo : A picture of a morgue cooler.

Photo : Chet looking apprehensive in an exam mirror.

*  
Date: Thu, 5 Aug 2004 10:37:09 -0700 (PDT) From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" Subject: The Subtle Differences

Doctor Scribbs immediately looked up as the engine crew returned with Roy, Malcolm, and Mr. Smith. "In there." he said pointing to a second autopsy room that had a shower ring already placed and running over the exam table. "I've got things set up for their decontamination. Gentlemen, I suggest you all take another round of scouring yourselves. I've fresh scrubs for you all to change into." the medical examiner said no nonsense.  
"Like these.." he said pulling on his own top.

"Thanks. " Roy said, immediately recognizing his benefactor. "Hiya, doc. Thanks for putting up with us."

"Gladly, Roy. You and your patients all right?"  
said Dr. Scribbs. "Belliveau and Sheppard have Gage well under control." he said crisply. "He's showing signs of waking according to them, but his pupils are still a bit dialated and sluggish and he has decreased deep tendon reflexes."

"Benzene'll do that. Any arrythmias showing up on the monitor, Sheppard?" DeSoto asked the Station 24 medic.

"No. He's one lucky b*st*rd. No pulmonary edema either."  
said the tan haired man sitting by Gage's head. "He's breathing now. Began to happen almost as soon as we got the stuff off of him. Starting to react to pain."

Roy nodded, glancing at Belliveau who had already started Malcolm's decontamination after a quick vitals set and a switch to a new clean arm splint. Marco and Chet helped Malcolm steady himself where he was seated under the shower ring. "He never lost consciousness, Bob. Did real good the whole time." he reported.

"Thanks.." Belliveau said. "And you?" he said, motioning to the cut on Roy's forehead.

"I'm ok. I had a brief blackout but I'm not the least bit nauseated.  
You can fuss over me once we get these two taken care of."  
Then DeSoto excused himself and took the fastest scrub of his life.

While the gang decontaminated once again, Dr. Scribbs filled in Hank Stanley. "The Support area's been established outside. A doc and a head nurse are coming here to handle our situation. Coming in by bird. Some hot shot named..uh..."

"Brackett.." Cap guessed."Good. He handled Gage previously with Stoker on the HT band. Although I don't know how they're going to get in here. Your front entrance may be in the Hot Zone from the meth explosion." Cap admitted.

"We're not. The chief says all LEL sensors are showing zero on our block. There's a bunch of firemen upstairs and a Batallion Chief setting up a base in my office right now. They've cleared us." Scribbs affirmed.

"Terrific.. You don't know how good that sounds. I'll be right back."  
said the sweaty fire captain. "I'm joining them after washing up. Keep this radio handy. I'm putting you in charge of keeping me updated on all of my men."

Scribbs noticed and appreciated the trust 51's captain was imparting to him. "You got it." said the no nonsense M.E. "You'll know faster than they will of any status changes. I'm a keen observer.." the doc added, jerking a thumb over at the paramedics tending Malcolm and Gage.

"I have no doubt about that." Hank grinned. "And keep an eye on that turkey over there. He's a criminal of the worst kind.  
He's one of the ones responsible for the disaster outside."

"Oh, really.." said Scribbs darkly. "Looks like there'll be no pot of coffee open for him. Nothing P.O. for any injured patient, right?" he asked sarcastically. "I think I'll doubly enforce that right now.." he said, moving off to verbally let loose his two cents opinion in a furious tirade to the blanket wrapped man about the meth lab in city hall.

Stanley cringed. "Ooo. I'd hate to be on the receiving end of that. Scribbs'll dissect him, piece by piece, for sure!"

-  
Roy sat down on a stool by Johnny Gage's side and immediately set his hands on his chest to feel his breathing while he checked out the shifting movements of his partner's eyes beneath their eyelids.  
He felt Mike Stoker's presence behind him and the engineer's worry practically rolled off of him like a scent. "Stoker, you made all the difference in the world. Relax. Johnny's almost the way back to fighting his airway now. The perfect one you established, I'll remind you."

Caught lingering, Mike almost whispered. "Could he have hurt his throat after that spasm? I mean, I had that scope down past his soft palate when it happened." Mike asked.

"Nah. His muscles would've pushed it out before any injury. I've had that happen a million times. Not your fault he cramped up.  
Benzene makes things a little sensitive to bronchospasms and throat lockups." Roy said, listening to Gage's chest. "He's still clear here. No edema.." he smiled.

The quiet engineer visibly relaxed and took a place on Johnny's free side just to be near him. Roy didn't fail to see the grip Stoker made to check for a beat in Johnny's wrist. "I thought I screwed up majorly." Mike sighed as he reassured himself that Johnny's BP was indeed on the rise.

Roy shook his head. "Here. Have a listen to where your tube is."  
he offered, passing the stethoscope over to Mike to use.  
"You got it just above the bronchial split and there's no gastric bubbling at all behind it, so the endotrach's straight and not bowing against the esophagus through his trachea like what sometimes happens when a size too big is used. You guessed Johnny's need for a seven french like a pro. Like I said, he's got an absolutely perfect airway all thanks to you."

Mike watched his crewmates across the room get cleaned and changed. "You know. I don't know how you and Johnny handle all the pressure. I mean, I handle that myself, but it's pressure of the water kind, not a gush of emotion like I felt when Johnny went down."

He set the stethoscope down unused.

"That's normal." DeSoto said. "I'd start to worry if you hadn't felt that. The intensity of it diminishes with practice and in time you.  
....learn to deal with it. ....and push it aside. Your training will get you through every time. You'll be so busy thinking ...what next? that you'll hardly have time for self doubt. Stoker, you're just new. And what I've seen today.. Your instincts are right on for a paramedic intermediate rookie in this stage of the game.  
You didn't freeze up nor buckle under one h*ll of a snap decision. I think Kel Brackett knew you better than you know yourself.  
You can handle it. And you did." he chuckled, pointing to where Gage was bundled up inside the warm body bag. Roy frowned.  
"Although I don't think Johnny's gonna like the choice of bedclothes here when he wakes up. Could ya find me some blankets or something? Maybe we can disguise the cadaver table here a bit so he won't notice."

"Sure.." Mike said. "Thanks for the pep talk.." he said, leaning over so Sheppard didn't hear him.

"Anytime. Thanks for saving my partner's life. I owe you one."

"Who's keeping score?" Stoker shrugged, and went off searching the morgue's cabinets, whistling aimlessly, his hands in his scrubs pockets.

Roy smiled and rechecked Johnny's liter of normal saline drip flow rate for the millionth time unnecessarily. DeSoto lifted his head when he heard the sound of helicopter blades slicing the air as it landed on the medical examiner's building.

-  
Dr. Brackett and Dixie McCall swept into the morgue with full jump bags. "Ok, what do we got?" Kel ordered.

"Johnny's breathing and starting to fuss." Sheppard announced.

"Tidal volume without support?"

"Full and clear."

"Ok. extubate him. Gently. Benzene'll make him extra sensitive to vagal stimulation and may cause another spasm. If he goes into ventricular tachyrhythmias, avoid epinephrine completely.  
Use a beta blocker. His pressure above 90?"

"Yeah, I got a wrist pulse.." Stoker volunteered to Dr. Brackett.

"Nice work earlier on the endotrach, Stoker. Ok, Sheppard, turn down that I.V. to an infusion rate of 150 to 200 mL/hour. Have Diazepam, a 5 to 10 mg i.v. dose handy in case he seizes. Repeat that every 10 to 15 minutes as needed when and if he does. Use a light metaproterenol inhaler for any bronchospasms. Benzene has an anesthetic action on the central nervous system in high enough doses. That's most likely why he collapsed and quit breathing on you so fast. Now that he's washed, he'll come around fairly rapidly."

"Right.." acknowledged Sheppard with a nod.

Dr. Brackett frowned. "I just wish I could run a few tests here.." he mumbled.

Dr. Scribbs overheard. "You can, doctor. This may be an L.A. County autopsy lab, but Sam and I have state of the art analysis equipment that's the rival of anything you have at the hospital. Including an electron microscope. What do you need?"

Kel blinked, watching Dixie get vitals on Roy and Mr. Smith.  
"Oh...Uh. ..ok.. Think you and your assistant can handle all of these?  
A CBC with differential, Hct, Hgb, serum erythrocyte count. Erythrocyte indices, three of them, an MCV, MCH, and MCHC along with a platelet count? We're gonna have to check for developing pancytopenia."

"Easily.." Scribbs punctuated.

"Ok, how about a BUN, blood calcium, creatinine series. Liver function tests of these two types,.. looking for hepatic aminotransferase levels.  
..AST, ALT. A search for elevated bilirubin, and a prothrombin time. Also a urinanalysis check for phenol. That's a byproduct of benzene as it decomposes in the renal system. " Dr. Brackett rattled off.  
"Percutaneous absorption can contribute to total body burden."

"I'm aware of that metabolite and fact, Dr. Brackett."

"Oh. You are? Sorry. Oh, .. and I'd like to pin down signs of paroxysmal hemoglobinuria."

"No problem." Scribbs fired off.

"How about checking for intravascular hemolysis? We'll have to give him 50 to 100 mEq of sodium bicarbonate intravenously to his I.V. to initiate urinary alkalinization to stop it." Kel asked, still deep in concern and concentration.

Scribbs laughed out loud noisily to get the Rampart M.D.'s attention. "Doctor, there isn't one test we can't do here. Just because we deal with deceased persons, doesn't mean that we're limited medically speaking in the slightest way."

" Whoops. I never said you were." Kel said automatically.

Dixie McCall shot back. "How about having the ability to make a decent cup of coffee? It's something the hospital stinks at."

Kel made a face at Dix in conmiseration.

Scribbs rolled his eyes self consciously. "Now that's one procedure my assistant and I haven't been able to master."

"Too bad.." McCall grinned, getting the needed blood and urine samples from Gage efficiently. "These boys look like they could use a bit of something to warm up a bit."

"I'll turn up the thermostat." and Scribbs rushed off to show Kel Brackett where the testing equipment was located. "Uh, that's if someone would be so kind as to shut that storage cooler door up first. Right this way,  
Mr. Brackett. The lab stairway's right through here."

"Wait a minute." Brackett stopped Scribbs. "I'd like to hear about my other two patients first if you don't mind."

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'm so used to one "patient" at a time. This triage concept's a little foreign to me."  
he admitted.

"Nothing to it. Belliveau? How's your three?"

"Mr. Smith's vitals are a bit elevated but he has no traumatic injuries. Roy here on the other hand,  
suffered a black out when the ambulance overturned."

"Roy's vitals are normal. Pupils are equal and reactive." Dixie supplied to end Kel's frown about hearing that.

Kel nodded. "And Malcolm here?"

"A simple radial ulnar break I think. Circulation, sensation and motor ability in the hand is intact." Bob answered.  
"No loss of consciousness in his history at all."

"Great news." and Dr. Brackett looked up. "We'll save the rest of our I.V.s for walk in casualties. " Then he fell to rubbing his chin,  
"Say I wonder if we can get that fracture x--"

Scribbs was quick. "We can.. I'll get Roy's full skull series going, too.  
If you two gentlemen will follow me." he gestured to the ambulance attendant and head bandaged paramedic respectively. "Malcolm, you stay right there in that wheel chair with that arm splint propped up. No one that needy ever walks in my office."

"Of that I have no doubt.." rejoined Chet Kelly.

Marco Lopez and Mike Stoker laughed at his joke.

-  
Upstairs, Captain Stanley was only half heartened by the solid rain falling from the clouds. "That'll end the roof fires, chief."  
he adressed Batallion. "But what about any chemicals reactant to water?"

"We're letting the heart of the Hot Zone burn. That'll decompose most of what this bill of lading has listed. The perimeter units, Foam 127 and 110 are covering the spread of that. The only risk factor I see is the benzene, with its outgassing ability and the fact that it's heavier than air. It may flow into the street craters where the gaslines blew and reignite isolated pockets of liquid gas on lingering sparks." the chief said.

"Fill the trenches with foam. We've plenty. I just heard L.A. City's here."

"Might work." Batallion admitted.

"I know it will." said the surgical scrubbed garbed captain.  
He absently adjusted the helmet that still perched on his head.

The chief had a chuckle at Hank's clothes. "You know, you look like a doc from a television soap opera wearing those."

Hank looked down at himself subconsciously and whirled to see if any other of the bustling firefighters going in and out of the building were staring. But none were. "Sorry, chief. It was all they had."

"The hat's enough for your rank identification. Tell me. How are those two Code I's of yours?"

"Fine,.. well, one is fine. Roy DeSoto took a knock on the head but it's minor. My other paramedic is.." and he shrugged when his voice choked off.

The chief patted Hank's shoulder as Stanley busied himself with not reading the city map festooned with the red fire point stick pins, spread out on the communications desk before them.  
"I overheard your engineer on the radio. Tell me, does he always play paramedic for your station?"

Cap immediately blushed. "Uh, Chief. Stoker's been fully authorized by the head of the paramedic program, Kel Brackett. I--I'm surprised you didn't get the memo.."

"I haven't had time. With the San Bernadino brush fire season in full swing. I'm behind doing a lot of things." the wizened chief's eyes alighted on a tray of packaged sandwiches being carted past by a relief worker. "Including finding some grub. Hungry Hank?"

Stanley was not slow. He intercepted the tray of food that surprised the young tunic'd woman for a few seconds when the weight left her hands. She saluted and did an about face to head outside for more sandwiches. "Thanks, maam. Could you run a tray to the morgue? I've several downstairs with patients."

"How many?"

"Just under a dozen.."

"I'll be there.." flashed the young woman's smile in the smoky lobby. "Give me four minutes."

"Appreciate it." Hank waved, munching on a ham and cheese.

Batallion was equally engaged with a roast beef on rye. "Umm, nothing like deli on a busy work day."

"Even inside a morgue?" Cap asked.

"Even in a morgue, Hank. Location's never stopped my appetite before. Never has, never will." The chief hefted up his sandwich in a mock toast. "Here's to light civilian casualties and a rapidly dying fire."

"Here, here." Hank celebrated. And the whole room of firefighters concurred from whereever they were.

The chief bellowed. "Get back to work all of you slackers!  
We still got a full week's hazard cleanup to do.." he yelled with an unserious grin. "Now where was I?" he asked Hank over the map.

"Hot Zone center cleanup."

"Oh yeah.. Right. Now the best angle of attack I can see for clean up is to continue the EMS personnel's evacuation of stragglers for full decontamination in the Green Zone.  
I'm convinced we won't need Level A barrier isolation for either the Decontamination nor the Rehabilitation Stations.  
Gloves and aprons will be enough." the chief reiterated.  
"We'll just keep using polybags for the evacuee's leather clothing articles. Benzene will stay concentrated in those."

Hank nodded. "And I have the third alarm units gathering names and addresses and the businesses on all of them so we can get our headcounts and check for any other potential missing people."

"Good. Good." the chief nodded. "I've already had L.A. call a clinical facility to handle all the hazardous waste we'll create with our soaking sandpiles and demolishing operations."

"And I've instructed L.A. City Fire Departments Nine and 112's to continue to check for airborne contaminants down wind."

"Their findings?"

"Mostly carbon monoxide and some tetrahydrocarbons. Nothing in the OSHA risk ranges yet. I'm most happy with the fact that the benzene is dissipating. The foam units are doing the trick. Only one backflash outside the back alley has been reported." Captain Stanley said.

"Hmm, the one that you boys drove through getting back here. Is your engine bad off?"

Captain Stanley was silent.

"Don't worry about E-51. I'll handle her repair paperwork personally. I'm sure Charlie the mechanic and his lackies will make her a priority. He loves your station's vehicles you know."

"I know he does.." Cap complained. "The way he jumps all over my men on every visit proves that. " and he broke off into an imitation of Charlie's gruff New York taxi driver accent. "You boys're gonna stop jamming the squad tires up against the curbs on rescue calls or I'm gonna come jam your skulls along side of the backyard walls the first chance I get!"  
Hank parroted.

"Ooo, " grimaced Batallion in sympathy. "He's that obssessed with the Ward and Chrysler?"

"Yep. Almost as much as I hate getting surprise insp--" he broke off, suddenly pale with embarrassment.

The chief cleared his throat, pretending that he didn't hear Hank's slipped comment. "I'll curb Charlie, too during the repair job. Your whole station crew today has done the department proud. I'll be issuing commendations for each and every one of you as soon as my staff can get to it."

"Thank you, Chief." Hank said, lowering his head in humility. "I'm sure my men will be thrilled see those during the next monthly meeting."

"Keep them a surprise." Batallion ordered.

"Yes sir."

Right then, Hank's HT, connected to the one in the morgue, came to life. It was Dr. Scribbs with news.

##Mr. Stanley. Your paramedic's awake and talking.  
The M.D. you got here's a real efficient man. Knows his stuff better than I know mine. Just thought you should know. You're busy so I'll sign off now.##

Click.

Batallion started grinning. "Hank..."

"Huh..?"

"Get down there before you burn holes in this map of ours. Your body's home but your brain isn't.  
Go see your man. You'll be no good to me until you've reassured yourself that he's out of hot water." the chief chuckled. "You have three minutes.. Go....I'll assume your command assignment until you get back."

Hank went.

-  
Johnny Gage was still vocally protesting where he was.  
"Oh, ughhhHHh. I'm on a cadaver table?! Get me off of here. A stokes suspended between two chairs'll be just fine.." Marco and Kelly hastened to move him but Kel Brackett halted them.

"Ah, ah ah.. Not so fast. You're still suffering some myocardial sensitivity Johnny. Any unnecessary motion might send you into V-fib." Kel warned.

"I'll willing to take the risk. You've got a defibrillator right there.  
I'll just slide over into the basket here and--"

"You just freeze right there, Johnny Gage..." Dixie glared,  
pushing both her hands down onto his chest so he couldn't rise up onto his elbows.

Mike Stoker whined. "Aw, Gage. Don't make me live through a second endotrach on you again. The first time was scary enough.."

Gage blinked, shifting his blankets around over his bare body. "You..did ..did what? Where was Roy?"

"Elsewhere." DeSoto grinned.

"Oh yeah?" Gage asked, frowning at Mike. Then he slid a tongue over his front teeth. "I think you screwed up a bit Stoker. I feel a chip here."

Mike Stoker's face started to fade into a look of horror when Gage smiled, letting him off the hook.

Dr. Brackett crossed his arms in a no business attitude.  
"Leave him alone, Gage. Or I'll sedate you myself and let him take another run at you. Now lie still. And that's an order you can't ignore."

Gage realized his cause was lost. "All right, all right. You win.  
Just.. gimme some eye covers or something. I don't wanna see what's in those jars over there. And a nose plug." he mumbled through his oxygen mask.

Dr. Scribbs looked up from admiring Dr. Brackett's triage chart with a wounded look. "My ward's spotless Mr. Gage.  
Not a trace of odor anywhere. I personally disinfected your table myself before you were transferred onto it."

"Charmed, doc. It's not the physical odor I'm talking about it's the..."

"...psychosomatic one.. I know.." Scribbs sighed sadly. "I hear that from absolutely everybody non department who comes in here." he sniffed. "And I've even tried to cheer up the place,  
too, for all the clinical residents I get visiting me each week."  
and he threw a hand at a prominent Garfield wall calendar tacked up under a stark white, round two handed clock.  
"Doesn't it help?"

Chet Kelly started an empathetic no, but Mike Stoker stepped on his foot to silence him.

Gage let his head thunk back onto his paper sheeted pillow.  
"A little... I guess.." he replied when Dix put on a little visual pressure with a do it or die face.

"Oh, what a relief. I can only decorate so much you know.  
It's because of the nature of my work."

"If you're so hung up on decor, why don't you go be a mortician in a funeral home. That kind of place is total lavish. Satin coffins, velvet curtains, carpetting.."  
Chet needled Scribbs.

Scribbs refused to rise to the bait. "I like problem solving too much to be satisfied with just corpse restoration for burial. Here, I can determine cause of death and there's nothing, gentlemen, more intriguing than that." he said with a grin.

Mike Stoker cleared his throat. "Yes, well. Uh... Chow's on. Looks like Cap sent us down a tray.."

Gage reached for a sandwich eagerly.

Dixie slapped his hand away. "Not so fast, Near Death Boy.  
You've orders for nothing PO."

"Aw,, Dix. I feel fine.." Johnny said.

"Yeah?" Kel admitted. "Well the tests Dr. Scribbs and I ran on you say otherwise. If your blood alkali normalizes within the next hour, I'll see about you eating anything.  
Until then, that I.V.'s all you're gonna get."

"Ok, doc, you're my doc."

"And so am I." glared Scribbs. "er... for the time being."

Johnny mock saluted them both, grumbling while everyone but Sheppard moved away to fill their bellies.

Malcolm declined his food saying he might lose it when his arm was reset.

Dixie dove into her egg salad. "Suit yourself."  
she told him.

Johnny threw a needle cover at Mike Stoker's back to get his attention when the others had gone. He didn't mind Gil Sheppard remaining for Gage trusted the paramedic to have selective hearing while he dove through the sports pages.

Stoker swallowed his last bite of chicken breast on wheat and he sat by Johnny. "Need something?"

Gage studied his hands. "Yeah, your ear." he said timidly. "Look, I didn't mean to critique all you did for me. This chip's nothing the dentist can't fix. I have soft teeth I'm told. And you must've had to hurry or something."

"I did. You quit breathing less than ten seconds after you dropped the BP cuff.." Mike Stoker said.

"I did?"

"Yeah. That must have been some benzene dose you took. Something in liquid form I suspect." Mike nodded.

"Was anyone else effected?" he asked quietly worried.

"Chet was. Both his eyes.."

Johnny's face screwed up in complaint.. "Well why does he get to eat?! For crying out l-- That's not fair.."

Mike hushed him. "His tests came out negative for phenol."

Johnny relented and suppressed a cough so the EKG monitor wouldn't set off a PVC alarm and send the others running.  
He just thought about what he was going to say for a minute and then he looked up at Stoker. "Thanks for bailing my butt, Mike. I could've died today."

"Well you didn't. And even if you had, no one does for long under MY c.p.r."

"That much is true.." Johnny chuckled, seriously. "Still.  
Thanks, pal." And he held out his I.V. taped hand.

Mike Stoker took it into a clasp, moved far beyond easy words, so he didn't speak. A nod sufficed. But then he tilted his head and he stuck out a pinning finger. "The first moment you're back on your feet and back on duty. You're gonna drill me on the mannikin. I wanna get a full intubation done in less than the minute they give you. And I wanna learn how to NOT cause a laryngospasm."

Johnny warmed up to the new subject heartily and his cardiac monitor sped up into an excited range. "That's easy. Here, move closer. I wanna tell you how I do all MY endotrachs.  
Roy's method's good. But a tad slow. I got a few seconds on him and he's been in this line of work longer than me.." he grinned lopsidedly. "Now after you've visualized the cords there's a positioning trick you can do with your elbows where you just cock your non stylus hand up a hair.. like this.. Here let me show you.. Gimme your hands.. Are you with me so far?"

Mike nodded.

"Ok, so you've got your scope blade in and the tongue's pushed to the right out of the way.. now all you have to do is..."

-  
Roy DeSoto listened to his crewmates quiet babble from the far side of the room with contentment while he sipped the well deserved cup of coffee Dixie had given him. She was with him now, helping DeSoto keep an eye on Gage's EKG monitor and she caught his slight smile of pride.

"What?" she asked, mirroring one of her own.

"Nothing. They're bringing back some memories that's all."

"What kind of memories?" Dixie pegged, challenging.

Roy was caught like a dog on a pole and noose.  
He sighed. "I remember talking shop with Johnny about paramedic stuff, just like they're doing right now."

"Does it feel good? Or bad?" McCall asked with a mixed look on her face, half worried and half horrified.

"Both, actually. I taught Johnny everything he knew and now he's got a chance to teach Stoker the same thing. In one respect, that proves that I made a good teacher. On the other hand, it makes me feel really ...old.." DeSoto mused.

"Oh, rubbish.." McCall said. "If I felt that way everytime one of my student nurses suddenly figured it out and became well seasoned, I'd never crawl out of bed in the morning.  
Just,.. let it happen,. and be done with it.."

Kel Brackett interrupted them from the autopsy reports he was reading through that Dr. Scribbs was showing him like a proud papa. "That's what I do, Roy. Look how I feel.  
I'm a great grandfather now.. First I trained you. Then you trained Gage. Now Gage is training Stoker... See? Great grandfather. And I never wallow in an I'm getting older pity pit."

"Yes you do.." Dix peeped.

"I do not!" Kel said, setting down his report slate.

"Sure you do. Whenever you graduate yet another paramedic class, it happens every time. Carol tells me she hears you doing it all the time."

"Well,," Dr. Brackett sputtered. "That's ..that might be true.. But I try to curb it."

"Relax, doc.." Roy smiled, leaning forward. "I won't let anyone on to the fact that we're all human beings."

Dr. Brackett frowned sarcastically and reburied his nose into the autopsy reports.

Scribbs added his own opinion. "I know the value of human sentimentality probably more than the both of you put together, since I see just how mortal each and every person,.. truly is." And he raised his cup in an invite. "Here's to life. And our mutual fight to thwart death."

Roy and Dix and Kel all raised their mugs of coffee and joined the medical examiner in his toast.

-  
Chet Kelly sat in his chair, well away from the others and the corpse cooler, watching Stoker and Gage run through an intubation call at his tableside. Something inside of him made him get up and walk over there.  
He interrupted their conversation self consciously.  
"Can I listen in?"

Mike Stoker and Johnny Gage fell silent.

Chet stammered. "I ..I..I mean.. I was there, too. Maybe I could learn a thing or three... like... like he is." he shrugged.

Mike Stoker smiled and pulled up a second metal stool. "Why don't you find a third seat for Marco. We'll all learn together." And Stoker's eyes twinkled in the lights.

It wasn't long before a newly arriving Hank Stanley was just as rivetted as the others to Gage's helpful hints and entertaining expertise on the finesse of good advanced life support techniques.

And it seemed like no time at all before the whole quarantined bunch was bound for Rampart aboard the helicopter, soaring high above the Carson City skyline.

FIN ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Brackett getting into a helicopter.

Photo: Close of Dr. Scribbs, L.A. County M.E.

Photo: Cap and a Batallion Chief by an engine.

Photo: Bob Belliveau, fire paramedic, by a med cabinet.

Photo: Gil Sheppard, paramedic, with his partner, seated.

Photo: Roy and Marco smirking.

Photo: Roy smiling proudly.

Photo: The gang loading patients onto a helicopter.

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